Ryuuou no Oshigoto! - Volume 18 - Chapter 3.06

  Tier 0

“Ai, don’t tell me ...... Did you just have a fight with Machi and Ryou?”

I had enough time to laze around in the bath and take a nap before getting called in to talk with Ai Yashajin.

She takes a bite of her dinner and casually shakes her head.

“Why would you think that?”

“They both sent me angry messages, so I kind of figured ......”

Machi wrote that I must be held liable for the product I created.

Ryou just said die.

Ai just shrugs when I tell her.

“I invited them to a practice session and they turned me down. Fitting in has never been easy for me.”

“............”

What could she have possibly said or done that would’ve made them send death threats to her Master over an invitation ......?

Besides, why would Ai bother trying to make a practice group when she has Awaji? And with Women’s League players? She has to be after something else, something big ......

I’m too scared to dig any deeper. Ai brings up something else once the silence gets a bit too heavy.

“It's one win and one loss, yes? How does it feel to play your first title match against your greatest rival?”

“He and I do think a lot alike.”

I answer after, between mouthfuls of chilled cider.

“As long as both players can bring out their full potential, offense will win in modern Shogi. It’ll be a seesaw match, just as I thought. Actually, I’m amazed that Ayumu hasn’t cracked under the two-day format yet, even though he doesn’t have experience―――”

“He has good support then?”

“Most likely.”

I’ve seen the kimonos that Ayumu wore to the first and second match before.

They belong to the Meijin.

And I doubt the clothing is all Ayumu borrowed. The strongest Shogi player having his back ...... I would’ve shouted cheater! at him if he’d had that kind of advantage before.

Now I bet he wants to yell that at me.

“It’s a big relief, you know.”

“What is?”

“Seeing that you won’t pull out Awaji’s strategies left and right. Though you did let one slip during the Placement Match with Taishi Shinokubo ...... Yes?”

―――So she did call me over here to issue a warning.

Ai Yashajin and I made 100 Awaji matches public, but we only released ones that used existing strategies like yagura and Bishop Exchange.

Opening moves like 5 Eight King should be avoided because they might infer the existence of death flags.

It’ll cut into our advantage.

“I must say, though, that both of you are playing almost exactly what Awaji recommends all the way to the end of the first and second matches. This title series might be the end of the Bishop Exchange.”

“First a warning, now a compliment. Busy, aren’t you?”

“Neither of us has the time to go home, so I have to say everything while I have the chance,” says the workaholic head of the Yashajin Group. She’s in the middle of dinner but still has her tablet at her side. She’s going to extreme lengths to do Shogi research even when she’s this pressed for time, and I take my metaphorical hat off to her.

“...... Well, there’s something I want to say too.”

Everything I heard about Ika’s condition from Okito-sensei.

I wanted to tell Ai in person. Leaving that as it is would leave a horrible taste.

She lets me finish and then says, “So then, the attempt to boost human Shogi senses to the same level as a computer has ended in failure.”

That’s how Ai summed up the match that finished before it could end. She doesn’t seem at all interested in the Empress Title even though it’s going to be hers very soon.

“Even with the superhuman abilities of Ika Sainokami, the human body isn’t built to keep up. A cyborg could, perhaps, but that’s beside the point.”

“Are you saying that humanity will never be able to catch up with computers?”

“Just don’t read the formations. It’s all about memorizing.”

Well, it’s true that knowing the death flags early in the match would grant a huge advantage.

The thing is ......

“Shogi isn’t that simple. There will always come a point when memorization isn’t going to help. That’s especially true in the mid-game when it’s easy to make a mistake. How do you plan on compensating for that?”

“With this.”

Ai turns the tablet to face me.

But that’s not Awaji’s interface. It’s a typical title screen of a game I see all the time.

“...... A Shogi app?”

“I told you, didn’t I? That we bought a company that makes a competitive Shogi app. I don’t see much room for growth in the near future, but it brings in a steady stream of benefits. It was a good buy.”

“I wasn’t talking about management―――”

“I’m talking about Shogi. Specifically the kind that people play.”

Words come pouring out of Ai.

“This app records the time used to think along with the moves. As of now, there are hundreds of millions of match records in the database. One that large has never existed before now ...... As we speak, people at all skill levels are playing an unfathomable number of matches and they just keep going. Most of their matches wouldn’t be preserved otherwise—especially strong amateur players.”

“But that database includes raw beginners, right? Talk about inefficient. Wouldn’t you be better off compiling pro match records instead ......?”

I was just about to point out that there are tons of match records with fewer mistakes when I freeze on the spot.

It finally hit me what Ai is trying to do.

“...... Are you studying how human beings think and make mistakes using those records ......?”

“It was a very good buy!”

What’s more, the game that Ai now owns has a paid subscription feature that lets the player go against AI.

Which means there’s also a database for people playing against a computer.

“This data has taught me how to play like software would against a human opponent. Artificially, yes, but that’s how I reached Tier 0.”

“Tier ...... 0?”

Tier.

That’s how characters are ranked by strength in online games if I remember right.

The lower the number, the stronger the character.

“Yaichi Kuzuryu, Ai Hinatsuru, Sota Kunugi, Ika Sainokami and the Meijin. Those five people are Tier 1. All have the potential to go well beyond the average person and are as strong as a human being can become.”

“...... You rate Ai Hinatsuru that high?”

“Oh? And you don’t? When it comes to late-game skills, I think of her as Tier 0. She truly isn’t human!”

“............”

I didn’t answer. There was nothing that could be said.

I knew that Ai Hinatsuru’s Shogi talent was extraordinary the instant I first played against her.

“Tier 2 would be Seiichi Tsukimitsu, Mitsuru Oishi, Ayumu Kannabe and the like. Though I’m sure Tsukimitsu would be Tier 1 if he weren’t blind.”

Oishi-sensei took a title from the Meijin despite the handicap of playing Ranging Rook, so there’s a chance his talent is at a higher level than Static Rook players.

That goes for Ayumu as well. Had he been alive in another era of Shogi history, he’d have dominated the Shogi world for a long time. With his strength coming from something other than a machine or affinity, how could he not? He’s a medieval knight through and through.

“By the way, my own potential is about Tier 3. That’s right on the border of where professional players could challenge for a title. Not much different from Machi Kugui or Ryou Tsukiyomizaka’s level.”

“Modest, aren’t you?”

“You would rate me even higher?”

“If I’m being completely honest, I can’t rate you at all. I also realize that admitting it makes me a failure as your Master ......”

It’s become obvious that I’d be kidding myself if I still think I have any control over her.

My train of thought has never put one wheel outside the edges of the Shogi board.

I’d bet the same is true for nearly all pros: Meijin included.

But Ai Yashajin seems to be observing Shogi from a distance. Her vision is too wide not to be.

It’s like she’s watching the tiny little Shogi world from outer space or the future.

“Awaji taught me where to find the death flags. The app data provided me with an endless supply of puzzles that show exactly how to cover human blind spots. These two together have elevated me beyond what humans can do.”

She doesn’t sound like she’s bragging.

It’s cold, unrelenting confidence.

She used computers the way they were meant to be used: as a tool, to conquer the game known as Shogi and become the model player of a new age.

“And you, Sensei, built your own version of Shogi a century from now in your head through countless matches with Awaji ...... Reaching a goal no human being could ever hope to achieve.”

Ai Yashajin reaches out with one of her delicate arms, puts her hand on my cheek and makes a prediction.

“We took different approaches to surpass humanity and the two of us will end Shogi, together.”